Hey All!
Reviews
Rogue-Glad you like it, and I update as soon as possible everytime. I have chicken pox (I'm sixteen, how crappy is that?), so I got a feeling this'll get done quickly. Well, comparativley.
Disclaimer
I'm so poor my balogna doesn't have a first name. I don't own X-men, or anything else I shamelessly rip off.
***
The X-men had a session before they were allowed to get ready for the party. Bobby had been a good messenger, and almost everyone there was terrified of what Rogue would do tot he. Needless to say, practice didn't go well with Scott and Jean nervous about what Rogue would do to them, not to mention the rampant fear in Kitty, Kurt, Bobby, Amara and Jubilee. Sam was nervous too, though no one knew why.
The session was called off early as a treat. Kurt, who had the only non-X-person coming to the party as his date, was going to brush his fur, and he was complaining about knots while searching of his brush.
Kurt's brush was the institute joke. Rahne had given it to him for Christmas, saying it was 'the best durn fur brush the enteer pet store had.' It was always on the boy's sink, full of blue fur, and in the way. Someone had decided it would be funny to hide it, and leave Kurt with really bad back knots. There were of course the obligatory jokes.
"Hey Cletus, why don't ya just clip off your back hair?"
"Do you shampoo it?"
"Ye doan 'ave flees, do ye?"
Kurt was 'porting everywhere (I suppose back hair knots are uncomfortable), making most people nauseus from the smell. Finally he found that no one had taken it. Amara was standing outside her room, holding his brush, touching as little of it as she could. Apparently, he'd left it in her room while calling the only thing keeping him from being locked up in a padded room sometimes ((sub-AN: also known as Amanda but it got confusing going Amanda, Amara, so I'm not usng their names anymore)AN: Having both Rogue and Mystique in your family has to hard somedays). His sweetheart's parents were screening her calls, and in order to talk to his girlfriend, he needed the now really grossed out princess to assure the Sefton adults that it was not Kurt calling.
Amara went to sterilze her hands while the fuzzy blue dude went to take care of his large chest hair problem.
A couple hours later the D.J. was hookingup his equipment. Kitty stayed in the rec. room to help him. Also to get out of taking out the garbage.
Rogue was putting chips and pretzel rods in bowls, reviewing her plots and pranks in her head. There was also a good deal of thinking about Remy, but that had been happening all week. The monkey he'd gotten her was sitting on her desk, mocking her. A reminder that she'd told him no, and even more a reminder that she regretted that. She'd tried to throw it away twice, but both times someone else found it, and tried to adopt it. Being taunted by your own toy is one thing, but seeing Jamie tormenting _her_ stuffed angel/monkey was out of the question. And letting Rahne use it as a chew toy wasn't happening either.
Remy was taking out the trash. [Jus' 'cause I get my stuff done faster den everyone else, dey t'ink I paid Sam t' do it. This is _not_ fair. I actually bothered to clean up de inside of de jet las' night, an' now I'm takin' out de trash. What's everyone else doin'? Rogue's puttin' chips in bowls. Dat must be takin' up a whole lot of her energy. Kitty's talkin' to de D.J. Bet Hank wouldn' make _her_ take out the trash. Roberto an' Sam are M.I.A. along with most everyone else. Scott's shoppin' with Jean an' Jubilee. That's gotta be hard.] "Okay, I'm bein' sarcastic in m' thoughts, an' now I'm talkin' t' myself. I hate garbage duty." He mentally, and vocally griped for the rest of his time as garbage man. It was only twenty minutes of actual work, spread out through various times of the day. He didn't even have it the worst, though he would disagree.
---
Scott was lost in Kroger's, with Jubilee and Jean 'helping' him. There is a cycle of Hell that is a Kroger filled with people bent on helping you. Scott was there that day.
"Um, Scott, I don't see any containers of sour cream big enough for the entire institute." Jubilee said, holding up a half-pint of said dip.
Jean was next to list her complaints. "Why does she need the vegetables? I mean three kinds of peppers! What the heck _are_ these spices? I think some of them are illegal! Does that look like 'cannabis' to you?"
Scott put his head in his hands. "Jean, I know her handwritting's messy, but she wouldn't put-" the list was shoved under his nose. "Is that cannabis?"
Jubilee grabbed the list. "No, it's cinnamon. Duh." Jubilee shook her head and grabbed the said spice. "Why I don't know. Maybe she's gonna make stuff beside dip."
Scott squinted at the list. Now that he thought about it; it did look more like cinnamon. He sighed. He'd rather be back at the institute, doing anything. He'd gladly trade jobs with anyone, including whoever was coerced into cleaning the gutters and sweeping the hangar (which is a huge room, so I can see why that would be a pain in the arse). Hell, he'd take out the garbage, including the cans in the bathrooms, by hand.
---
"I gotta admitt Chuck, this was a good idea." Logan said, after grudgingly agreeing to play Trivial Pursuit with the others
"Yes. Doing a little of their own work for once will not kill them, and we were in desperate need of a break of our own." Ororo said, laying out the board game.
"If the students can go for two more hours without declaring war on each other the generator we got for the D.J. may be totally unnessisary." Hank said, while pouring himself some wine.
The teachers were having their own party while the students were at work getting ready for the main party. It was weird how they were making such a big deal about this when Amanda was the only non-institute person that was coming. Rogue wasn't planning on seeing Risty until she got to England, and no one else would really do well at the institute party; beside, maybe, Paul; and he had the chicken pox (I will not suffer alone!).
The adults were just happy for the quiet, however momentary.
---
"Jamie! Run the vacuum in the other room, where you're dusting." Amra said, while wiping down the fold out tables for the chips and stuff. [Funny how I don'tt hink that is a very stupid sentence. I think I'm jaded. Out! Stupid spot.]
Jamie apologized and went, with the shop-vac, where the original and two more Jamie doubles (quadruples?) were cleaning.
Remy came in to collect the trash. He had stopped mentally griping, after her heard Rogue yelling at Scott, via his cell-phone, about how everything she'd put on the list was not only in Kroger, but also on sale. He knew better than Scott that Rogue would brutally murder anyone who might mess up her cooking. Not that he'd had direct experience, but he'd heard the rumors. [Yeah, I've heard de rumors. Not one satanic intervention either. People got no originality.]
Remy noticed the D.J. was by himself for once. Remy got an idea. All he needed was a perfect song. Then one came from the blue. Something no one would trace to him. A quick pay off, and Remy was forming a plan.
It's funny. While plotting, for whatever gains, one often stops using their eyes. That is, you can still techinically see, and a few things will register, if they're caught, but otherwise you're not paying attention to the fact that you can see. This is probably why super villians are put in padded cells; because when plotting escape they can't hurt themselves. More curious, is how people who are plotting always do it in major walkways, while they're supposed to be doing something else. This is a textbook example.
Rogue was carrying a bucket of ice and a two liter of Mountain Dew, pondering what to do about the dance. On one hand, dances=socializing, and popular music. On the other hand, she was told to keep the bowls full, and that would be hard to do from the kitchen. On the other hand, she could just set everything out and hide. On the other hand. . .
What resulted was Remy and Rogue ran into each other. this snapped them both out of their pondering, and got them focused on the matter at hand.
"Sorry Remy. Ah wasn't payin' attention."
"Me neither. 'S okay." His attempts to look like suave and in control were undermined by the huge garbage bag behind him. Rogue smiled, and went around him. This is good, because otherwise they might have stood there staring akwardly at anything but each other for a full five minutes.
"Ya might wanna take that out 'fo it decomposes inta the carpet."
Remy looked at the trash bag, and once again name it the bane of his existence. "Thanks." He continued on his way, feeling a little stupid, but returning to his plans for the night. Somehow he was more sure they would work after seeing Rogue was blushing furiously after running into him. [Just a few more hours.]
Rogue surveyed the rec. room. There were balloons and crepe paper everywhere. the colors were all bright, and they all clashed horribly. The students who were M.I.A. earlier in the day had been out cleaning five stores out of their silly string, and half of what they'd bought was set up on the table. The other half was set up onthe walls, or the fold out linolium, held down by some sort of frame. Kitty had dug out all the christmas lights, and Rogue had replaced all the regular light bulbs with black lights, and threw in a few strobe lights too. It was as close to a club as the rec. room would ever be.
Rogue put the soft drink down and ran through a checklist of what she'd finished already. A bowl of french onion dip was next to every kind of chip Rogue could get her hands on. [Caterin' is so much more fun on someone else's money.] As far as dip went there was just the ready made stuff until Scott and the others got back.
Just then the front door opened, and Scott, Jean, and Jubilee walked in, each carrying a bag that had obviously been filled by a rookie bagger. They (the bags, and the students) were holding up to twice their usual capacity. Rogue looked at them, and couldn't decide if the sight was more funny or sad.
"There were only ten things on mah list."
"We had to get enough sour cream, we bought more chips, and Jubilee demanded gum." Jean said, telkinetically grabbing the Pringles that were about to fall out of her bag. Rogue laughed and mothioned for the others to follow her.
***
Hmm, one upside to being sick is quick updates. The first chapter lacks a little of my old pinache, I think. I'm trying not to perpetuate that problem. Tell me how I'm doing. In other words. . .
REVIEW!
Peace and Love,
Panther Nesmith
Reviews
Rogue-Glad you like it, and I update as soon as possible everytime. I have chicken pox (I'm sixteen, how crappy is that?), so I got a feeling this'll get done quickly. Well, comparativley.
Disclaimer
I'm so poor my balogna doesn't have a first name. I don't own X-men, or anything else I shamelessly rip off.
***
The X-men had a session before they were allowed to get ready for the party. Bobby had been a good messenger, and almost everyone there was terrified of what Rogue would do tot he. Needless to say, practice didn't go well with Scott and Jean nervous about what Rogue would do to them, not to mention the rampant fear in Kitty, Kurt, Bobby, Amara and Jubilee. Sam was nervous too, though no one knew why.
The session was called off early as a treat. Kurt, who had the only non-X-person coming to the party as his date, was going to brush his fur, and he was complaining about knots while searching of his brush.
Kurt's brush was the institute joke. Rahne had given it to him for Christmas, saying it was 'the best durn fur brush the enteer pet store had.' It was always on the boy's sink, full of blue fur, and in the way. Someone had decided it would be funny to hide it, and leave Kurt with really bad back knots. There were of course the obligatory jokes.
"Hey Cletus, why don't ya just clip off your back hair?"
"Do you shampoo it?"
"Ye doan 'ave flees, do ye?"
Kurt was 'porting everywhere (I suppose back hair knots are uncomfortable), making most people nauseus from the smell. Finally he found that no one had taken it. Amara was standing outside her room, holding his brush, touching as little of it as she could. Apparently, he'd left it in her room while calling the only thing keeping him from being locked up in a padded room sometimes ((sub-AN: also known as Amanda but it got confusing going Amanda, Amara, so I'm not usng their names anymore)AN: Having both Rogue and Mystique in your family has to hard somedays). His sweetheart's parents were screening her calls, and in order to talk to his girlfriend, he needed the now really grossed out princess to assure the Sefton adults that it was not Kurt calling.
Amara went to sterilze her hands while the fuzzy blue dude went to take care of his large chest hair problem.
A couple hours later the D.J. was hookingup his equipment. Kitty stayed in the rec. room to help him. Also to get out of taking out the garbage.
Rogue was putting chips and pretzel rods in bowls, reviewing her plots and pranks in her head. There was also a good deal of thinking about Remy, but that had been happening all week. The monkey he'd gotten her was sitting on her desk, mocking her. A reminder that she'd told him no, and even more a reminder that she regretted that. She'd tried to throw it away twice, but both times someone else found it, and tried to adopt it. Being taunted by your own toy is one thing, but seeing Jamie tormenting _her_ stuffed angel/monkey was out of the question. And letting Rahne use it as a chew toy wasn't happening either.
Remy was taking out the trash. [Jus' 'cause I get my stuff done faster den everyone else, dey t'ink I paid Sam t' do it. This is _not_ fair. I actually bothered to clean up de inside of de jet las' night, an' now I'm takin' out de trash. What's everyone else doin'? Rogue's puttin' chips in bowls. Dat must be takin' up a whole lot of her energy. Kitty's talkin' to de D.J. Bet Hank wouldn' make _her_ take out the trash. Roberto an' Sam are M.I.A. along with most everyone else. Scott's shoppin' with Jean an' Jubilee. That's gotta be hard.] "Okay, I'm bein' sarcastic in m' thoughts, an' now I'm talkin' t' myself. I hate garbage duty." He mentally, and vocally griped for the rest of his time as garbage man. It was only twenty minutes of actual work, spread out through various times of the day. He didn't even have it the worst, though he would disagree.
---
Scott was lost in Kroger's, with Jubilee and Jean 'helping' him. There is a cycle of Hell that is a Kroger filled with people bent on helping you. Scott was there that day.
"Um, Scott, I don't see any containers of sour cream big enough for the entire institute." Jubilee said, holding up a half-pint of said dip.
Jean was next to list her complaints. "Why does she need the vegetables? I mean three kinds of peppers! What the heck _are_ these spices? I think some of them are illegal! Does that look like 'cannabis' to you?"
Scott put his head in his hands. "Jean, I know her handwritting's messy, but she wouldn't put-" the list was shoved under his nose. "Is that cannabis?"
Jubilee grabbed the list. "No, it's cinnamon. Duh." Jubilee shook her head and grabbed the said spice. "Why I don't know. Maybe she's gonna make stuff beside dip."
Scott squinted at the list. Now that he thought about it; it did look more like cinnamon. He sighed. He'd rather be back at the institute, doing anything. He'd gladly trade jobs with anyone, including whoever was coerced into cleaning the gutters and sweeping the hangar (which is a huge room, so I can see why that would be a pain in the arse). Hell, he'd take out the garbage, including the cans in the bathrooms, by hand.
---
"I gotta admitt Chuck, this was a good idea." Logan said, after grudgingly agreeing to play Trivial Pursuit with the others
"Yes. Doing a little of their own work for once will not kill them, and we were in desperate need of a break of our own." Ororo said, laying out the board game.
"If the students can go for two more hours without declaring war on each other the generator we got for the D.J. may be totally unnessisary." Hank said, while pouring himself some wine.
The teachers were having their own party while the students were at work getting ready for the main party. It was weird how they were making such a big deal about this when Amanda was the only non-institute person that was coming. Rogue wasn't planning on seeing Risty until she got to England, and no one else would really do well at the institute party; beside, maybe, Paul; and he had the chicken pox (I will not suffer alone!).
The adults were just happy for the quiet, however momentary.
---
"Jamie! Run the vacuum in the other room, where you're dusting." Amra said, while wiping down the fold out tables for the chips and stuff. [Funny how I don'tt hink that is a very stupid sentence. I think I'm jaded. Out! Stupid spot.]
Jamie apologized and went, with the shop-vac, where the original and two more Jamie doubles (quadruples?) were cleaning.
Remy came in to collect the trash. He had stopped mentally griping, after her heard Rogue yelling at Scott, via his cell-phone, about how everything she'd put on the list was not only in Kroger, but also on sale. He knew better than Scott that Rogue would brutally murder anyone who might mess up her cooking. Not that he'd had direct experience, but he'd heard the rumors. [Yeah, I've heard de rumors. Not one satanic intervention either. People got no originality.]
Remy noticed the D.J. was by himself for once. Remy got an idea. All he needed was a perfect song. Then one came from the blue. Something no one would trace to him. A quick pay off, and Remy was forming a plan.
It's funny. While plotting, for whatever gains, one often stops using their eyes. That is, you can still techinically see, and a few things will register, if they're caught, but otherwise you're not paying attention to the fact that you can see. This is probably why super villians are put in padded cells; because when plotting escape they can't hurt themselves. More curious, is how people who are plotting always do it in major walkways, while they're supposed to be doing something else. This is a textbook example.
Rogue was carrying a bucket of ice and a two liter of Mountain Dew, pondering what to do about the dance. On one hand, dances=socializing, and popular music. On the other hand, she was told to keep the bowls full, and that would be hard to do from the kitchen. On the other hand, she could just set everything out and hide. On the other hand. . .
What resulted was Remy and Rogue ran into each other. this snapped them both out of their pondering, and got them focused on the matter at hand.
"Sorry Remy. Ah wasn't payin' attention."
"Me neither. 'S okay." His attempts to look like suave and in control were undermined by the huge garbage bag behind him. Rogue smiled, and went around him. This is good, because otherwise they might have stood there staring akwardly at anything but each other for a full five minutes.
"Ya might wanna take that out 'fo it decomposes inta the carpet."
Remy looked at the trash bag, and once again name it the bane of his existence. "Thanks." He continued on his way, feeling a little stupid, but returning to his plans for the night. Somehow he was more sure they would work after seeing Rogue was blushing furiously after running into him. [Just a few more hours.]
Rogue surveyed the rec. room. There were balloons and crepe paper everywhere. the colors were all bright, and they all clashed horribly. The students who were M.I.A. earlier in the day had been out cleaning five stores out of their silly string, and half of what they'd bought was set up on the table. The other half was set up onthe walls, or the fold out linolium, held down by some sort of frame. Kitty had dug out all the christmas lights, and Rogue had replaced all the regular light bulbs with black lights, and threw in a few strobe lights too. It was as close to a club as the rec. room would ever be.
Rogue put the soft drink down and ran through a checklist of what she'd finished already. A bowl of french onion dip was next to every kind of chip Rogue could get her hands on. [Caterin' is so much more fun on someone else's money.] As far as dip went there was just the ready made stuff until Scott and the others got back.
Just then the front door opened, and Scott, Jean, and Jubilee walked in, each carrying a bag that had obviously been filled by a rookie bagger. They (the bags, and the students) were holding up to twice their usual capacity. Rogue looked at them, and couldn't decide if the sight was more funny or sad.
"There were only ten things on mah list."
"We had to get enough sour cream, we bought more chips, and Jubilee demanded gum." Jean said, telkinetically grabbing the Pringles that were about to fall out of her bag. Rogue laughed and mothioned for the others to follow her.
***
Hmm, one upside to being sick is quick updates. The first chapter lacks a little of my old pinache, I think. I'm trying not to perpetuate that problem. Tell me how I'm doing. In other words. . .
REVIEW!
Peace and Love,
Panther Nesmith